DIRECTIONS/MISDIRECTIONS
I sit inside the train of tears
The station mellow in shade
Unoriginal phrases air-brush the canvas.
Puzzling minds I wonder
If all are like my own
Closed to stillness.
From girders hang the acrobats of gone
Pearl grey Whistlers.
We sat on
A train like this once, you and I,
Face to face but travelling
In opposite directions-
Or was it you alone I watched depart,
Stood on the platform edge, anxious and alert?
Poem by
Barry Tebb
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